Half A Week Before Winter
by Wyntermajik
Summary: Her patient yet seemingly lost eyes stared silently at the the dark oak sign who's ancient script read: Welcome to Godric’s Hollow and she suddenly knew she had found him at last. Two years, 3 months and 31 days and she had finally found him. [HPxGW]


**!IMPORTANT!:** I've recently started up an LJ community (that will spread past LJ, I assure you) to write a collaborated HP fanfic & I would love to have you all join in on the fun! Feel free to stop in collaborate(downdash)fic on LJ to take a look into what it's about and drop off an application to join! If you don't have an LJ, just leave your application in a review or message me! My e-mail is also in my profile if you'd prefer that. (:

**Disclaimer: **You'd hate it if I wrote it. ):

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**Half A Week Before Winter**

Part I

The warm breeze rustled the dark green leaves on the scattered brown trees and her clothing fluttered in sync with the blades of grass that rested around her dirty white sneakers. Her patient yet seemingly lost eyes stared silently at the the dark oak sign who's ancient script read: Welcome to Godric's Hollow. Rare white spotted orchids were nestled between pale red and pink calla lilies with wide petals and thick verdant stems that seemed to be reaching in desperation towards the sky. Even though the sign was dark and worn with age, it seemed delightfully comely when surrounded by such vibrant things of beauty. She wondered for a moment who -if anyone- was the talented gardener to raise such healthy plants. Neville, she knew, would be proud.

As she looked on, she saw that the cobblestone path that ran down the center of the tiny town was pristine condition but had the tell-tale signs that horses and carriages had once wandered down in the years passed. It made it look even cozier -if possible- and radiated a feeling of welcome that invited and pulled her ever closer to the opening where the town seemed to begin. Small shops that looked much like the ones found in Diagon Alley lined the street in a neat row like soldiers standing to be checked by their commander. Simple businesses like a quaint tailor's shop, a shop for teas and coffees and a small grocery store seemed so much more fantasy-like here. Perhaps it was the simplify of it all or the peace that seemed to surround them. It had, after all, been a long time since she'd seen or felt anything akin to peace...

In essence, the small town looked as if it hadn't once seen an ounce of trouble and she had a momentary feeling of gratitude to Harry Potter for having defeated You-Know-Who before places like this had been over-run.

Godric's Hollow seemed so pure and far more magical then the greatest of Wizarding towns could ever be. It was a warm and comfortable place to live out your days, to raise family and watch them raise their very own families. Taking in the matching green doors and age-old script on the signs over shop doors, she realized that it really was no wonder why he had come here.

She had been told it was to be a simple visit; just some time to look around the place where his parents had once lived and where he had started his life. It was supposed to be nothing more than a week-long trip but when Hermione and Ron had finally returned a year later after battling You-Know-Who on the front lines alongside Harry, they had told her of her decision to not return. He wanted an escape from the world of wizards, questions, odd looks, gasps of surprise and murmurs behind his back when they realized who he was. She never realized he would have chosen here to settle down and create his new life. She never would have thought to check here and that had been his plan all along...or so she thought.

She couldn't blame him, honestly. She knew that she would want to escape fame such as his, too, had she been in his shoes. But, she thought harshly, leaving her behind even after defeating You-Know-Who was going over-board.

He had told her that he cared, once in a fairy-tale of years ago. He had reasoned with her to stay at The Burrow and watch those in The Order if she wanted to help him. He'd told her he loved her, kissed her till she was breathless and walked away, looking back every couple of steps to make sure that he would remember the way her red hair framed her rounded face and that the freckles on her nose were a shade or two darker than those on her cheeks. He said that he was leaving her to protect her against You-Know-Who and when the news of Harry Potter defeating the Dark Lord came 'round through the Order, she'd smiled for the first time in what seemed like ages. The very same smile had risen on her lips when she saw the shock of red hair belonging to her elder brother, Ron. Hermione Granger, his fiancée had strolled gracefully out moments later looking tired but pleased to be back.

However pleased she was to see them both, she could not hold back the feeling of worry that seemed to be creeping through and on her skin like thousands tiny spiders pulling and nipping at her tender skin. Minutes passed and hugs were passed around. Her mother had moved to hug everyone -even the people she'd seen everyday for the last year, 4 months, 6 days and 13 hours- after hugging Ron and Hermione tightly for minutes at a time.

The awkward silence had followed, afterwards. All the hugging was completed and eyes were moving quickly back and forth; Blue to green, green to brown, brown to blue and back again. Silence seemed to rush dauntingly between them, challenging each person to ask the single question that they were all wondering.

"Where's Harry?"

It had been Charlie who spoke, his face looking cool and slightly indifferent while he gazed just over Hermione's shoulder where Ginny's face was caught between a look of confusion and hurt. She knew that he was asking because she couldn't, at that moment, find the words herself. Internally, she thanked him for asking over and over again and then damned him in the very same thought for gazing at her openly while doing so. It only took a few moments for her family -in all it's entirety- to see where he was looking and turn to look at her, as well.

Hermione cleared her throat daintily and Ginny noticed the subtle motion of her hand squeezing Ron's encouragingly. Their fingers interlocked and for a moment there was a pregnant silence.

Ron had the decency to look away when he finally found his voice. He lifted his chin, cocked his head just slightly to the left and gazed unblinkingly at Charlie, "Harry has decided to take a break...a long break."

"Perhaps, an indefinite break," Hermione whispered in a slightly broken voice. She didn't look away as Ron had. She stood tall, her hand clasped tightly in his and offered Ginny silent sympathy trying her best to rely the message that she had _tried_; she honestly had.

Molly's gasp was quick and loud as she reached up to grab her chest, "Indefinitely, you say?"

"Yeah, mum," murmured Ron, "and I think it'd be best if we just left him alone."

Her heart had crumbled to tiny flecks of red like chipped paint on a prized art piece but only after she'd finally looked up from her feet to see nine pairs of eyes shining with the purest look of sympathy ever known to a heart-broken woman.

Her tears hadn't come till later.

Ron and Hermione's wedding had followed just a year after. Harry, Ginny thought, was sure to be there and she took careful care of herself in weeks previous to the event. Cucumber facials and hours of CosmoWitch! had prepared her for her meeting with him. She planned to give him a good piece of her mind before sealing his lips with her to prevent a reply past the simplest of apologies. Even then, she didn't know if she could resist him long enough to let him slip out a 'sorry'.

All day she'd wandered around standing on her tip-toes to see over the heads of all the wedding guests, wandering through thick crowds of people and yanking at the uncomfortable material of her dress all along. Never once was there a sign of anyone with dark, unkept hair nor the glint of the bottle-cap glasses that rounded perfectly around shining emerald eyes.

There was no sign of him at all and by the end of the evening she was tearing silently at her dress, pink blotches were spread across her high cheeks and tears were threatening to pool over into long, thick lashes. She hadn't been able to last long enough for the bouquet toss and hadn't even paused to apologize when she'd bumped harshly into a unknown man who stood away from the crowd in front of the door to the burrow looking uncomfortable. She'd thundered past him and into the house but only after seeing the slight look of sadness that reflected in clear, blue eyes.

Her despair turned to frustration after the wedding. She began searching, intercepting the post (surely he'd at least send a congratulations to Ron and Hermione...), searching through old news articles for the smallest of hints as to where he may be, she questioned people endlessly, using her family name (which had become more powerful then the Malfoy name had ever been since the war came to a close) to gain access to "Top Secret" files that she hoped may contain exact whereabouts but all attempts failed. Hours upon days upon weeks upon months and not a single finger print nor hair had been found.

Two years, 3 months and 16 days later she had found herself losing all hope. Late one evening as she watched the clouds move smoothly through the dark sky she decided that tomorrow would be her very last day. Moving up and on would help her, she knew. However, what she didn't know was that the very clue she needed would be tapping silently at her window the very next morning.

* * *

**&&&**

* * *

That morning, the sun had taken refuge behind a series of large, gray clouds that dripped water at a slow, patient pace whilst they waited for the hussle and bustle of the working folk to begin so that they may wouldn't waste their heavy load on just fresh green grass and still-slumbering animals. The small drips seemed to be enough to aggravate the tiny gray owl that had taken to tapping a mile-a-minute against the window pane in effort to get out of the cold water. When it's first 15 minutes of tapping had failed, it moved on to the window just above and began it's tapping once again. It paused momentarily when it saw a young girl sit up quickly, her hair in a disorganized pile atop her head and the outer edges of her eyes puffy and red. For a moment, she looked confused but before she could roll over to fall back asleep, the owled gave a distinctly violent tap to the glass. The girl jumped, looked up and towards the window and then rose slowly from the small oak bed. 

The small bird flew in and landed blithely on the back of the chair in the corner. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Ginny gazed turgidly at the budle of wet gray feathers while she said, "For Ron Weasley, I assume?"

The owl hopped down to rest on the air of the chair before lifted up it's leg to indicate that she should take the letter. Sure enough, the front of the envelope read:

_To Mister & Misses Ronald Weasely_

_3rd story, First room_

_The Burrow_

"Stupid git," she muttered as she tossed the thick envelope onto the desk in the corner and grabbed a owl treat to feed to the small creature before it departed back into the rain, "can't even wake up when an owl arrives unless Hermione's here to get him up. He's useless, I swear." Her mini-diatribe continued as she pulled on the sweater her mum had knitted for her 4 Christmases past. The thread of the golden snitch had dulled and the dark green had faded to a color akin to vomit but she didn't care. The fact that, at one point in time, it had been the color of his eyes and had his greatest talent on it was more than enough for her.

The freckles on her thin hands were starkly evident against her pale skin in the early-morning glow from the flickering candles on Ron and Hermione's hallway as her fingers closed together to form a fist and her knuckles rose to rap against the door to wake it's snoozing occupant up and alert him of the letter that she was to be keeping. Feeling slightly bitter that early in the morning, she just felt the needed to rub it in his face that she would be shredding yet another letter that had been sent to 'Mister and Misses Ronald Weasley' but, as her knuckles just brushed the wood, she paused.

A letter written to 'Mister and Misses Ronald Weasley', she mused, could be a letter written from a person that only Mister and Misses Ronald Weasley knew the location of. A letter written to ' Mister and Misses Ronald Weasley' could be a letter from Mister Harry "I ran away from the woman I promised my love to and didn't even have the guts to show up to the wedding of the two people who had never done anything but kind things for me" Potter. Not pausing to think about it any more than she already had, she turned to walk back towards her own bedroom with hurried steps and light feet. She kicked the door shut behind her before practically running over to the desk where the thick envelope still lay. Tearing the emerald paper away, she unfolded the thick parchment and began to read:

"_Dear Mister and Misses Ronald Weasely,_

_ The staff at Wizarding Maternity would like to congratulate you on your recent news of concievment! We wish you the best of luck in the future and know that you will have a very happy family togather."_ Ginny paused to snort, remembering how Hermione's screech had woken the entire Weasley family the morning before when she'd seen Ron toss his boxers to the floor before asking her to pick them up and take them to his mum for washing. _"We've also owled you to inform you that one Mr. James Harold Evans has paid the balance of your account (Number 9342A) in full and apologizes for not being able to send his gifts "in person". Mr. Evans has also ordered the maternity set you chose from Wizard Maternity and will be shipping it from "Godric's Hollow" in a mere two days. He wishes you the best and hopes to see you soon. _

_  
Best Wishes,  
Jeena Lancaster_

_Wizard Maternity Manager"_

The script was dainty and neat and Mr. James Harold Evans seemed to glow a little brighter and stand out against the jumble of letters surrounding it. He hadn't tried to hide it well, she noted. Any letter sent to the Weasley home could be intercepted but any of the Weasleys, including herself, and could very well never end up in the hands of the Weasley that the package or letter was being sent to and a name like "James Harold Evans" was so brutally evident that she had to wonder why she hadn't guessed it, before.

"In person" almost seemed to hint that he had been keeping in touch with them through someone or something else and suddenly she wondered if that person had been at Ron and Hermione's wedding, if they'd come to the yearly celebration that was held at the Burrow to celebrate Harry Potter's defeat of the Voldemort or to every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and birthday dinner they'd had since he'd left.

Standing silently in front of the desk that she had written letter after letter to "Mr. James Harold Evans" only to have each of them thrown away when she found that there was no real address to send the letters to. At first, this had left her feeling like it had all been a lie, before and that maybe -just maybe- this was all just a lie, too. Perhaps, she mused, somewhere she knew exactly where Harry was hiding and when exactly he would be returning. Now, standing there, she realized that she had known all along. Harry had been exactly where he said he was going to be and Harry would never be returning.

"Damn him if I let that happen," she mutted, tossing the letter off into the drawer where she'd hidden all the letters addressed to "Harry J. Potter" before dressing quickly and practically running down the stairs. Her mum called after her as she let the door slam behind her and Ron's shout from upstairs could be heard even from the fence in the yard but all of it fell upon deaf ears as she apprated to the Auror's office to hand in her 2 week notice.

* * *

**&&& **

* * *

She'd left early in the morning on silent feet and with careful steps. Apprating out of the house was too dangerous, they could easily track that, and walking all the way to Godric's Hallow was simply outrageous. Naturally, she'd planned a mix of both. She would walk to the muggle town that they had passed on their way to the World Cup the year before and would take a car that a good friend of her's in the Auror's office had pulled strings to get and then drive it North for two days time before apprating from a small wizard town she'd been told about just days before by the very same friend who had managed to get her the car. No one would suspect anything or even be able to track all of the apprating that was coming from a wizarding town so far away from Ministry Headquarters and she had been right. The drive had cost her more money then she'd thought and it had taken much longer to arrive in the town than she had been told but when she finally found a quiet, dark corner that she could apprate to Godric's Hallow in, she had almost fainted from the sheer delight that had overtaken her thin body. 

The loud "POP!" had reverberated in her ears and she'd closed her eyes quickly when the pull yanked her body. When she was finally able to clear the bit of dizziness that had come from the rather difficult appration, she had smiled.

The sign in front of her read: Welcome to Godric's Hollow.

Two years, 3 months and 31 days and she'd finally found him.


End file.
